"Studying art, did you say?"
"Yes."
"I didn't quite get his name?"
"Sidney. Philip Sidney."
Stars began to twinkle in Violet's eyes at her sudden enlightenment. What would Rex say?
Kathleen Fabian's observing eyes found time to follow Phil, too. He wore his dress clothes more like one accustomed to inhabit palaces than stables. She saw girlish eyes brighten as Edgar personally conducted the Westerner about the room. When she planned to sit next him at dinner, it had been with a thought of protection; as Edgar had been lavish of prophecies of the probable gaucherie of the cowboy. She also had believed it quite likely that the mining engineer did not possess a dress suit; and Edgar had drawn cheerful pictures of the way his arms and legs would probably protrude from any which he might rent; but it was quite evident now that Phil had a good tailor and had not spent all his evenings in a mountain cabin.
Kathleen had suggested to her brother that he be seated beside Violet Manning, as there would be no other man present whom she had ever seen, but Edgar vetoed that plan.
"Let the two derelicts go in together," he had said. "I never did see any sense in this business of social philanthropy. Let the lonely people take care of each other. They will if you only have the cleverness to bring them together. Then you're spared all the boredom yourself, and kill two birds with one stone."
"My dear," his mother had said, "Miss Manning is an orphan, alone in the city, and you were quite friendly with her at the island—"
"Yes, but I don't want to talk about the island all the evening. There are some widows I would consider; but when it comes to orphans—orphan teachers—count me out."